#9 of 100: Nightmare Knotweed
Tilda plants some seeds sold to her in a dream, but the consequences end up being more hideous than she could imagine.
Was tempted to skip today on the basis that just sitting upright felt like a chore, but then I thought I could at least attempt some weak nonsense while lying in bed.
Tilda bought a packet of seeds off a man in her dream and woke up clutching it. The only writing on the packet was “Plant me.” So she did.
After a week, the seeds had sprouted and grown into ugly, tangled bushes in her garden. White flowers bloomed among the leaves, and their exquisite smell compelled Tilda to rub the petals on her wrists so she could keep the scent with her all day long.
Her friends told her the new perfume was enthralling, and soon they too began to dream of the man with the seeds. They too scattered the dream seeds in their gardens, or the pots on their balcony and window-sill. The branches of the bushes that grew were even more tightly knotted, the flowers even more pungent.
They also discovered the bushes flourished as much underground as they did on top. Her friend Esther found the roots had broken through the pots and dominated the balcony. Soon they dangled down so far the downstairs neighbours complained about the view. Specialists had to be called in to separate the plant from the structure of the apartment, and they deemed it a highly invasive species.
Tilda herself soon found the roots invading her home. They creeped through the plug sockets and up through the drains. One slithered its way through the plug hole as she ran a bath, causing her to run off screaming and stay with her parents for a few days.
Only then did the seed seller return to her dreams.
His experiment had been a success, he said. Now that he knew a living thing could be transported from his world to hers and not just live but thrive, he needed her to accept some of his own seed so he could be reborn and thrive in her world.
The problem with her dreams was that she was never truly in control, never quite herself. Her waking self would never accept such a sickening proposal, but dream logic compelled her to agree to his plan.
When she awoke, she told herself it was an ordinary dream. The alternative seemed too unpleasant to comprehend. The bushes in her garden began to wither and die, but unbeknownst to her, something had taken root in her womb.
She noticed Esther’s baby bump first, but refused to acknowledge any change was taking place in her until strangers started asking intrusive questions. When she finally went to the doctor, she lied about the father, assuming the truth would get her sectioned.
In the end, a total of thirty women went into labour at the same time. After nine hours, thirty identical screams were heard, as thirty identical hideous but sweet-smelling babies were born.
This is a fantastic story reminiscent of The Midwitch Cuckoo's.
At first I thought it was going to go down a Day of the Triffids route but the ending was superb.
Calling knotweed is possibly a bit confusing due to the real world knotweed imported by British Rail and destroying house values across the UK. I get the similarities but when using somewith different properties it's worth using a different name to avoid confusion. Also, people might thing "Oh, it's a story about mortgages" instead of horticultural dubcon 😂.
Cracking story! The short length works well for it keeping it consise and focused but again, this would be a brilliant prompt for a longer work.